Diary_3004_Wake up in Ghost City

You see, that a world becomes a heap of ruins, but there are no guilty parties, and no logical explanation either. How will I allow myself to be devastated…. Lately, and in principle, I have not been able to live anymore, without this rare other, this living one, filigree comet, with whom I am doubly alive. I do not know, why I smoke like a stubble field. But I am not also an aging history book and am just adapting the way, as i learned, to react and interact? For me, life is a game of all or nothing. For some time now I've only been losing there, where my core, my liveliest existence is threatened, gives, where something is at stake for me! I would like to feel in nuances, but that was never my thing.
As a young girl, I briefly had a mental soaring. In that time between eighteen and nineteen, I thought, that a person can never lose anything, because he owns something, that nobody can take away from him: the ability, to give yourself the feeling of inner wealth. I was just cycling on the pink Julia, my second bike bar from school towards the train station, (wo mir Jakobli, the first bicycle pannier was stolen), warm foam clouds drifted across the blue sky, I was happy, because it occurred to me, I'll always be rich. What a mistake. This idea was just a theory or, once again, one of my ideas! I thought for example, that there are so many hearts in me to conquer and vice versa I never again have a single big heart for you (People)
, but many small ones for some! For many! But my many little hearts remained untouched like little lounge seats in the disco bar. I felt alive, but the liveliness of the many or some others did not open up to me. The important tangents didn't touch and I froze, that ttog mrabre. Where was my inner wealth now, when I freeze and didn't make it, to attract someone to me….some to attract me? Synergy of energy and doubling of vitality through mutual presence. When I loved everyone, comprehensive and could affect many, so that the energy reaches the nucleus, then life would have been a dream and I'm sure, I wouldn't be a physical cripple now. BUT so what does it matter, whether we are inflamed for other people and whether and to what extent we feel the lack, when we spend more than three quarters of our short lives without these touches, which we need, To see us mirrored by something outside? I think, so much potential is lost! What a waste, as healthy, to pass by this chalice!!!! For sure, there are people, they compensate for this lack or do not feel it that way, others are fleetingly drawn to countless people. I don't know the origin of my longing, which has degenerated into despair. But dark, I suspect, that in it my adaptation of all or nothing, of life or death. My feelings and actions are always tightly linked to the inside- and outside of the same glove. When I want to understand myself and my absurd bulky way of life, I just have to have these two absolute poles in mind; then I have the exclusivity and the precariousness of my emotions. Emotions; that is way too much said. They are only internalized, biochemical reactions, tight, hopeless paths, from which it fires, signal synapsing discharges, misdirected by a sympathetic hyperactivity of the brain. I am permanently flooded with adrenaline, the level rises, how something rises and rises outside… as little as I come into contact with it; I feel intuitively, that this world will turn into a sick patient, drifting away, without anyone rushing to help. I feel a mighty erosion. Everything else is approximate. For many people, however, there are niches and places outside, they feel that they belong to others, they adapt their existence to what is given, make compromises, feel in gradations. Others come in early. I'm sure, also from human freezing. When you get up with someone, correct, then loosens the knotted hours, the brain flies, as if it were smeared with lard, the heart leaps, one is easy again, creative, glad, lively like a child. I don't feel like imploding another three quarters of my life back into my own vitality, armor me, through the tank, who puts the world on me, as their area of ​​influence is wider, than mine. I don't feel like feeding myself all the time. The circumstances hardly allow anything else. My. And those out there. When I say, that I don't see, how my life fell, so there must be an external / internal force (as explained above) have worked through me, dies, although I was actually striving for inner peace. But at the price of a truth, for which you necessarily have to work hard. weapons, that I pulled out, weren't there to be destroyed, but to ensure peace, a real u deep peace. I mean with that: that I had to try, Something as natural as finding access to people. Then there was quite often theater and arguments. I was still running, when I no longer had a protective skin, stupid into every cone of fire. As if I could in the knowledge, to break, gain some experience at the last moment. That pinch of experience, that I miss, to understand, what's going on. However, I had to take on the destruction, turn them inward, because the outside broke off and slid away like a stretch of land into the sea. I hardly see a human face for weeks or years. I am no longer in an exchange, which should be normal for a herd animal, for a herd animal, like me, that needs close proximity. I think of Kaspar Hauser, who vomited meat and soup, after eating bread for years…and then went crazy, when the world suddenly turned to him. We are ourselves? I have to ask again? We are in us, when so many of us are cold? And I bring the lover to it, To draw weapons at me, although I sank down before his knees, escaped myself, got so small, like i have never been, so absurdly ridiculous and small…! Seeing peace and not an inner peace permanently destroyed thereby. That is the premise behind the idea, I had when I was eighteen, as I thought, that I have a place in this world, find a niche. Even when I'm sredna. That I can go out and ask questions, I thought. And connect myself with these and those through questions. And so I outgrow the edge.
(19.12.2020, Ghost City, Narrow peninsula, 3004, Bern)
Tags: No tags

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *